


Fortune's Fool

by Fox



Category: Romeo and Juliet
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-12-25
Updated: 2004-12-25
Packaged: 2017-10-02 13:13:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fox/pseuds/Fox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Romeo! humours! madman! passion! lover!<br/>Appear thou in the likeness of a sigh:<br/>Speak but one rhyme, and I am satisfied.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fortune's Fool

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Brigdh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brigdh/gifts).



> Written for brigdh for Yuletide 2004. Thanks to Ellen Fremedon and Merry Contrary for beta.

SCENE I. A street.

 

_Enter_ VALENTINE _and_ MERCUTIO.

 

VALENTINE  
Nay, art thou not an addle-minded fool?  
Thou talk'st of nothing in your letters but  
This single friend, and nothing else beside.  
Romeo did that, and then Romeo did this,  
And Romeo did some other damnèd thing.  
And yet thou askest me now to believe  
That he knows not of thy regard for him?  
Thou'rt never such an actor.

 

MERCUTIO  
I doubt not  
That he doth know he's dearer far to me  
Than any man except yourself. And yet  
I swear that never greater fool drew breath  
Than he, when anything's to do with love,  
And he has never had the first idea  
That he's more dear to me than any woman.

 

VALENTINE  
You brood upon your step like any man  
In love with any woman; and your face,  
And this half-jug of wine, or less, suggest  
That, though a lover, you are yet unloved.  
Which is the truth. No one could look at you  
And not know in an instant, ere you spoke,  
That here is one whose heart has flown his breast,  
And found no place on which it could alight.

 

MERCUTIO  
Oh, but it has alighted, there's the rub --  
It's not like to return, and hence my gloom.  
You've made your point in one case, which is that  
I'm almost out of wine. I've more inside.  
But you mistake my friends' ability  
To see what is before their very eyes,  
When what is there to see will not be seen.  
As love is blind, why should my love not be?  
I hide my passion in a cloak of jest,  
And sometime scorn, though less at him than at  
The women he does fall in love withal,  
Not one of whom is worthy, as I think,  
Though I admit my judgment not quite fair --  
Yet as I say, none knows of this but me,  
And you as well, now; keep it to yourself --  
But each of whom he loves, with all his heart,  
One at a time, until he sees the next.  
He'll fall in love as quick as set his eye  
Upon a pretty maid, and then despair  
If she liketh him not, or notice not  
That he swoons after her. And all the while  
He tells us of his love, and of his woe --  
For Rosaline, just now, since a week past --  
But never does he know his ev'ry word  
Is like a dagger struck into my heart.

 

VALENTINE  
You thrive, then, on the pain, or so it seems,  
If still despite this dagger in your heart  
You yet consort with Romeo ev'ry day.  
Why dost not tell him, or seek diff'rent friends?

 

MERCUTIO  
I'd tell him, if I thought he'd love me, too,  
Or, if he did, then if his fickle heart  
Would favor me for longer than a day.  
He is not constant with his love, but to  
His friends he's loyal as the day is long.  
So friend I'll be. It is almost enough.

 

_Enter_ Capulet's servant.

 

How now, sirrah? There's none who'll answer thee.

 

SERVANT  
I pray you pardon me, good sir. Is't not Signior Mercutio who lives here?

 

MERCUTIO  
It is, but none will answer if you knock. What's your business with Signior Mercutio?

 

SERVANT  
Will you see him before tonight?

 

MERCUTIO  
Marry, will I, if I look in a glass. What message do you bring?

 

SERVANT  
I humbly beg you pardon me. It is an invitation from my master, to his house for supper. Pray you read.

 

MERCUTIO

_Reads_

 

'Signior Martino and his wife and daughters; County Anselme and his beauteous sisters; the lady widow of Vitravio; Signior Placentio and his lovely nieces; Mercutio and his brother Valentine; mine uncle Capulet, his wife and daughters; my fair niece Rosaline; Livia; Signior Valentio and his cousin Tybalt, Lucio and the lively Helena.'

 

It's two of us you've found, sirrah, for here is Signior Valentine as well. Now if you'll tell us who's your master, we'll bid you tell him we'll see him gladly tonight.

 

SERVANT  
My master is great Capulet, and I will tell him Signiors Mercutio and Valentine will attend. Rest you merry!

 

_Exit._

 

VALENTINE  
The sisters of the County Anselme, fair?

 

MERCUTIO  
He flatters for what purpose we know not.

 

VALENTINE  
Such blatant lies ought not to be allowed.  
I nearly choked when you did read it out.

 

MERCUTIO  
Then likely you missed hearing me go on  
To say Signior Placentio, and -- aha,  
Thou know'st his nieces will attend on him,  
The one of which is Silvia, whom you love.  
So go with me tonight, to Capulet's.

 

VALENTINE  
I shall, and would have even had you not  
Dangled the beauteous Silvia before me.  
Did I not also hear --

 

_Enter_ ROMEO _and_ BENVOLIO.

 

ROMEO  
Mercutio!

 

MERCUTIO  
You did.

 

ROMEO  
Benvolio's made me promise to  
Disguise me and attend a masquerade  
At Capulet's, tonight, where he does swear  
He'll show me beauties such that I will think  
My Rosaline the plainest maid of all.  
What say you?

 

MERCUTIO  
Why, what should I say to that?  
There will be fairer there than Rosaline,  
Of that there is no doubt.

 

VALENTINE  
Well spoken.

 

MERCUTIO  
Hush.

 

BENVOLIO  
But will you come along with us tonight?  
And Valentine, well met -- I did not know  
That you had come back to Verona. When  
Did you return?

 

VALENTINE  
The evening before last.  
Well met indeed, Signior Benvolio.

 

MERCUTIO  
We will to this old Capulet affair  
As well. My brother and I both will go.  
You two shall hide your faces, as you said,  
And join our party.

 

ROMEO  
My good friend, much thanks.  
We'll meet thee back here to go there tonight.  
Good Valentine, I welcome you back home.

 

_Exeunt_ ROMEO _and_ BENVOLIO.

 

MERCUTIO  
I know what you will say; I prithee don't.

 

VALENTINE  
If he but knew, he might not --

 

MERCUTIO  
Valentine.

 

VALENTINE  
He may not love you, that is so, but he  
Might choose his words with more care than he does  
So not to cause you grief, if he but knew  
That you love him.

 

MERCUTIO  
I'm glad for what I have,  
Which is, though not what I might wish for most,  
Far better than the nothing it could be.  
Come, let's go in.

 

_Exeunt._

  


  
SCENE II. In front of Capulet's house.

 

_Enter_ ROMEO, MERCUTIO, BENVOLIO, _and_ VALENTINE, _with five or six_ Maskers, Torch-bearers, _and others._

 

ROMEO  
Peace, peace, Mercutio, peace!  
Thou talk'st of nothing.

 

MERCUTIO  
True, I talk of dreams,  
Which are the children of an idle brain,  
Begot of nothing but vain fantasy,  
Which is as thin of substance as the air  
And more inconstant than the wind, who wooes  
E'en now the frozen bosom of the north,  
And, being anger'd, puffs away from thence,  
Turning his face to the dew-dropping south.

 

BENVOLIO  
This wind you talk of blows us from ourselves;  
Supper is done, and we shall come too late.

 

ROMEO  
I fear, too early: for my mind misgives  
Some consequence yet hanging in the stars  
Shall bitterly begin his fearful date  
With this night's revels and expire the term  
Of a despisèd life closed in my breast  
By some vile forfeit of untimely death.  
But He, that hath the steerage of my course,  
Direct my sail! On, lusty gentlemen.

 

BENVOLIO  
Strike, drum.

 

_Exeunt_ ROMEO _and_ BENVOLIO.

 

VALENTINE  
Stay back a moment, brother, and  
We can pretend to be engagèd in  
Discussion of some import, until you  
Wish to go in. I can wait to see her.

 

MERCUTIO  
There is no need for pretense. You have seen  
How I can bear myself so stoic'ly  
That even good Benvolio, even he,  
Does not suspect there's anything amiss.

 

VALENTINE  
Benvolio is an idiot.

 

MERCUTIO  
Perhaps,  
But not so blind in matters such as these  
As Romeo, who is every bit as blind  
And foolish as the bowman who does shoot  
So cruel and truly with the arrows that  
His mother has prepar'd.

 

VALENTINE  
I will not ask  
Why you do hold in such esteem a man  
Whom you yourself describe as such a fool,  
Since well I know that love is not a choice.

 

MERCUTIO  
Except in love, he is no fool at all;  
If ever I say else, remind me that  
No green-eyed monster rules me.

 

VALENTINE  
That I will.  
Shall we go in and join them?

 

MERCUTIO  
Yes; lead on.

 

_Exeunt._

 

 

  


  
SCENE III. Near a lane by the wall of Capulet's orchard.

 

_Enter_ BENVOLIO, MERCUTIO, _and_ VALENTINE.

 

BENVOLIO  
Come, he hath hid himself among these trees,  
To be consorted with the humorous night:  
Blind is his love and best befits the dark.

 

MERCUTIO  
If love be blind, love cannot hit the mark.  
Now will he sit under a medlar tree,  
And wish his mistress were that kind of fruit  
As maids call medlars, when they laugh alone.  
Romeo, that she were, O, that she were  
An open et caetera, thou a poperin pear!  
Romeo, good night: I'll to my truckle-bed;  
This field-bed is too cold for me to sleep:  
Come, shall we go?

 

BENVOLIO  
Go, then; for 'tis in vain  
To seek him here that means not to be found.

 

MERCUTIO  
In vain indeed! Incredible insight!  
I'll tell you both, and you may be amazed  
To hear it, but 'tis true: -- What was I saying?

 

VALENTINE  
Come on, my brother, let's get you back home.  
Then you can tell us your amazing tale,  
Whatever it may be, tomorrow, when  
You're able to talk sense.

 

BENVOLIO  
Your brother's wise;  
My friend Mercutio, you should be in bed,  
And let these visions come to you in dreams.

 

MERCUTIO  
Speak not to me of dreams, which are begot  
Of nothing --

 

VALENTINE  
\-- But vain fantasy, we know.  
Give me your arm.

 

MERCUTIO  
I've had too much to drink.

 

VALENTINE  
That's true. God gi' good den, Benvolio.

 

BENVOLIO  
And you, and him as well. My friends, good night.

 

_Exit._

 

MERCUTIO  
Benvolio! Ah, he's gone. But, Valentine,  
You marked how Romeo took no note of me  
Nor none of you, nor good Benvolio --  
He never sees but one thing at a time,  
And woman's what I mean when I say thing.

 

VALENTINE  
I did. Indeed, I never doubted you.

 

MERCUTIO  
Sometimes I wish that we had never met,  
I'd never been his friend, nor been so dense  
To love him so -- that I had never let  
Him rob me of my reason, of my sense.  
But every time he gives away his heart  
He takes another little piece of mine;  
Though his stays whole, yet mine is rent apart;  
I suffer slowly, but exceeding fine.  
And still, I cannot rid myself of this,  
This gaping wound, invisible to view.  
I wake some mornings dreaming of his kiss;  
If only I believed that dreams come true.  
Time heals all hurts -- or so at least I'm told.  
May she mend this one well before I'm old.  
But I did mask it well, think'st thou not so?

 

VALENTINE  
You could mayhap have fallen at his feet  
And sworn your love to him in front of all  
Verona, and he would have noticed not.  
But, yes, your disposition was opaque  
And none could have suspected why it was  
That you made so efficient a dispatch  
Of so much wine, and scowled the evening through.

 

MERCUTIO  
I'm known for quite a scowler.

 

VALENTINE  
Are you, now.  
Here, just a few steps more, and you'll be home  
And soon asleep, to dream of happier things.

 

MERCUTIO  
My dreams are often sweet, when dreamed at night;  
But sweet turns swiftly sour in morning's light.

 

_Exeunt._

 

  
~intermission~

 

 

 

  


  
SCENE IV. A street.

 

_Enter_ MERCUTIO _and_ BENVOLIO.

 

MERCUTIO

 

_Singing_

 

'Lady, lady, lady-o.'

 

What business had that crone with Romeo, that she should seek him in the square at dinner-time?

 

BENVOLIO  
She is the nurse to old Capulet's daughter, where we should have supped last night.

 

MERCUTIO  
His daughter? Surely not, for his is a tree that bears but bitter fruit, uncommon small and scarce ripening before they all shrivel and fall, out of season. Methought that cat's-paw Tybalt was his only heir.

 

BENVOLIO  
His heir maybe, but though Capulet has put six children in the ground, yet his youngest did not wither on the vine.

 

MERCUTIO  
And this her nursemaid, who desired Romeo's confidence? Wherefore? And, didst thou mark, he knew her and was not taken in surprise that she should find him here. What means this consort with the house of Capulet?

 

BENVOLIO  
Peace, I know not.

 

MERCUTIO  
There's no good can come of this. You are his kinsman; if you knew the woman was a Capulet, or one of Capulet's household, you should not have left him so carelessly.

 

BENVOLIO  
A nursemaid cannot harm him.

 

MERCUTIO  
A cat cannot harm a man, neither, until he coddle it so it can reach to scratch out his eyes.

 

BENVOLIO  
You're out of humour to-day. Has something befallen you that would account for your discrepancy in mood since yesternight? If so, I am all sympathy.

 

MERCUTIO  
'Tis nothing. My head aches.

 

_Enter_ ROMEO.

 

Yet in one piece, Signior, and not torn all to bits? I see then that my fear was ill-founded.

 

ROMEO  
What, didst think me in danger?

 

MERCUTIO  
Benvolio says Mistress Frigate there is the nurse of the daughter of Capulet.

 

ROMEO  
Ay, and what of that?

 

MERCUTIO  
Hast thou forgot the mortal loathing nursed by your father for hers, and hers for yours? To what purpose do you meet her nurse and talk in secret for so long a time?

 

ROMEO  
You've often said the feud betwixt my house and the house of Capulet is stupid stuff, if I remember true.

 

MERCUTIO  
And so it is, and were it my house, I'd not sustain it.

 

BENVOLIO  
Yet you do hate Capulet's kinsman Tybalt almost beyond the telling of it.

 

MERCUTIO  
Be well assured, my friends, that my patience for Tybalt would be less than nil even were he kinsman to any man other than Capulet -- were he, God forbid, kinsman to yourselves, I'd hate him all the same. That's everything to do with him, and nothing with blood. But this is not the matter: despite I consider the quarrel petty and overlong, yet it persists, for why should your houses mend relations on my account? So there is danger still, I say, for Romeo to converse in full view of whoso cared to pass by, with a woman who maintains such influence in his enemy's house.

 

BENVOLIO  
Such influence, say you? A nurse?

 

MERCUTIO  
An her charge is the only child of Capulet's to survive? Yes, such influence, say I, for the hand that rocks the cradle rules the world. What answer make you, Romeo?

 

ROMEO  
None.

 

MERCUTIO  
What, nothing?

 

ROMEO  
It is as you have said; our ancient grudge is stubborn foolishness, and so it ought long ago to have been called. Wherefore if my father on behalf of Montague will not make peace with her father on behalf of Capulet, at least may I make peace with Juliet for myself.

 

MERCUTIO  
You're mad, you know.

 

ROMEO  
Mad, but methodical. With us, the combat ends.

 

BENVOLIO  
There's no argument 'gainst that.

 

MERCUTIO

 

_Aside to Benvolio_

 

But some thing he does keep from us. This is not the whole tale.

 

ROMEO  
The half-hour strikes; dinner calls, almost that I can hear it. Where's Valentine to-day, Mercutio?

 

MERCUTIO  
Dining with his mother.

 

ROMEO  
He must come to my father's for supper to-night. You'll tell him, if you see him?

 

MERCUTIO  
Ay.

 

ROMEO  
Come in to dine.

 

_Exeunt._

 

 

  


  
Scene V. A lane outside Friar Laurence's cell.

 

_Enter_ MERCUTIO, _and_ FRIAR LAURENCE _and_ ROMEO, _apart._

 

MERCUTIO  
This is the place. Why with such haste did he  
Come here from dinner at his father's house?  
I never knew him such a man of faith,  
To hurry from his friends to meet a priest.  
And what, I wonder, has he to confess?  
He does like thistledown from one love float  
Unto another, borne by nothing more  
Than one light breeze; but always he remains  
Unlucky, loving only from afar.  
There is no sin in that; it is not lust,  
But what he thinks is love, and is more like  
A new-struck admiration and respect.  
If only one of us could tell our sins  
Before we died, not both, I would of course  
Insist that it be he; yet I am sure  
That mine's the soul that bears the greater stain.  
Still, this church wall's not sturdier than my love;  
If it is sin to love so steadily,  
So deeply and so well, why then I had  
Far rather be a sinner than a saint.  
What's this -- who joins him now? I'll hide me here.

 

_Enter_ JULIET.

 

FRIAR LAURENCE  
Here comes the lady: O, so light a foot  
Will ne'er wear out the everlasting flint:  
A lover may bestride the gossamer  
That idles in the wanton summer air,  
And yet not fall; so light is vanity.

 

JULIET  
Good even to my ghostly confessor.

 

MERCUTIO  
Who's this -- it is not Rosaline, that's sure,  
For Rosaline is tall, and plain of face.

 

ROMEO  
Ah, Juliet, if the measure of thy joy  
Be heap'd like mine and that thy skill be more  
To blazon it, then sweeten with thy breath  
This neighbour air, and let rich music's tongue  
Unfold th'imagined happiness that both  
Receive in either by this dear encounter.

 

MERCUTIO  
What, Juliet? 'Tis the child of Capulet,  
Whose nurse he spoke to in the square to-day.  
What can it mean -- they meet by stealth, or else  
Risk earning each the other's kinsmen's ire;  
But wherefore meet at all, I ask myself;  
Wherefore enlist a priest to meet them too,  
And ev'ry thing I think can be the cause  
Does cause me worry. Fie -- I like this not.

 

FRIAR LAURENCE  
Come, come with me, and we will make short work;  
For, by your leaves, you shall not stay alone  
Till holy church incorp'rate two in one.

 

_Exeunt_ FRIAR LAURENCE, ROMEO, _and_ JULIET.

 

MERCUTIO  
It cannot be. It cannot be that they  
Have gone to have this grey friar marry them.  
This cannot be! And yet, it seems it must,  
For what else could he mean, "Till holy church  
Incorp'rate two in one" -- that's plain as day.  
O, God! I always knew him for a fool,  
But never thought him such a fool as this;  
It's not been one full day since he saw her,  
And just that quick is Rosaline forsworn,  
And Juliet loved -- nay, more than that -- adored,  
And now the priest doth make him husband to her.  
To make some peace, he says, betwixt the house  
Of Montague and that of Capulet.  
Make peace, forsooth. It's not peace that he looks  
To make with her, despite his noble words.  
I hope she's as unchangeable as he,  
With her affections; mayhap they deserve  
Each other. O, I would I loved him not!  
Alack the day I ever saw his face;  
Alack the day I ever saw him smile,  
Or lost my heart, fool organ, like a leg  
Caught in a hunter's trap. The time is come  
When, if I were a wounded beast, I would  
With strength I'd never known that I possess'd  
Pull back and tear asunder my own arm,  
Lest that the fest'ring wound result in death.  
I would that I could rip my love for him  
Free from my heart, or else my heart itself  
Out from my breast, where it does poison me  
At every beat with its infectious rot.  
I'd feed it to the dogs! O, if I could --  
I am no lass in love who's overcome  
With vapors -- do I lack will of my own?  
If I cannot instruct myself to cease  
My love for Romeo, who is proven here,  
Though fair of face and limb, a callous, vain,  
Oblivious, idle, quick-distracted fool,  
Why then can I not pluck out my whole heart  
And lacking it love none? -- I've not the strength.  
Wretched Mercutio -- ha, the more fool I!  
If ever there was any chance that I  
Would heed my brother Valentine's advice,  
There is none now.

 

_Enter_ BENVOLIO

 

It's late. Where have you been?

 

BENVOLIO  
I had some business of my own at home,  
And then did search for you some little while.

 

MERCUTIO  
For me? Thou wouldst have found me well enough  
If thou hadst come round here an hour ago.

 

BENVOLIO  
And if we always knew where we might find  
That which we sought, would life then benefit  
Or suffer? For is searching not as much  
A part of life as finding is, or more?  
Since we may search and search, but never find,  
Yet never find a thing without a search.

 

MERCUTIO  
Life! Prithee, do not speak to me of life --  
Thou knowest nothing, speakest nonsense, art  
No use to me or any other man.  
If I can not be rid of thee, at least  
Come help me seek my brother.

 

BENVOLIO  
Where is he?

 

MERCUTIO  
Would I say "seek", or need help, if I knew?

 

BENVOLIO  
A jest, a joke, in faith, since we did talk  
Just now of searching and of finding things.

 

MERCUTIO  
A joke, indeed. Were you a fool at court,  
You'd make the ladies cry, instead of laugh,  
And find your head ere long upon the block.

 

BENVOLIO  
I pray thee, good Mercutio, let's retire:  
The day is hot, the Capulets abroad,  
And, if we meet, we shall not scape a brawl;  
For now, in these hot days, is the mad blood stirring.

 

_Exeunt._

**Author's Note:**

> Let me tell you that you haven't lived until you've spent six weeks tapping out fanfic on your desk to make sure it _scans_.
> 
> I had a mental checklist. Blank verse, check; prose, check; sonnet, check; heroic couplet, check. I mean, I _geeked out_ on this thing.
> 
> And I owe incredible debts to the great betas: Merry Contrary, who gave me encouragement and checked the meter and pointed out continuity issues; and Ellen Fremedon, who kept needling me to make Mercutio angrier, and was right.


End file.
